There’s a scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows where Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly disapparate (i.e. teleport) from London to a safe house (12 Grimmald Place) in order to escape the Death Eaters sent to kill them. Upon entering the residence, a ghostly Mad-Eye Moody (who is dead) rushes toward them, a sort of security measure he put in place before his death to protect the house. This is an unwelcome and scary surprise, so Hermione performs a spell (Revelio) to determine if there are any other frightening surprises (or persons) in the house. Nothing appears. The three teenagers stand in the entrance hall, which seems dark and menacing rather than the safe place it’s meant to be; the long dusty hall (and the unknown future) stretches in front of them. Hermione says, “We’re alone.” No one is there to help them. They are on their own, in an uncertain world.
That scene has been playing over and over in my mind these last few weeks, as Tom and I first traveled to Georgia to install our youngest, Rin, in their freshman year at Savannah College of Art and Design, and then again upon coming home, where we watched our eldest, Adam, pack up the car and drive off to begin his sophomore year at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo.
Since then, Tom and I have had trouble concentrating on work and school - well, on life, basically. Sure, we are a bit sad (we miss them both quite a lot), but we are also happy, as we have become (as my brother-in-law Andy assures me) “Successful Adult Launch Facilitators.” We’re worried, and we’re proud, and we’re hopeful. We are also curious to discover who we are as a couple, after twenty years of sharing our home with children. In short, we are feeling everything all at once.
Being of a certain age, lots of our friends are going through the same changes, and it’s been interesting to hear the various reactions. Some have reported feeling utterly liberated and free; others write of evenings spent crying on their child’s empty bed. We are somewhere in the middle - not delighted, but not bereft. We are, quite simply, alone. It will take some time for us to adjust to these new circumstances.